


cover me in apricity

by minwonderlust



Category: Haikyuu!!
Genre: Ambiguous/Open Ending, Fluff, Kissing, M/M, Strangers, Travel, before sunrise references, sad attempt at poetry
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-01-15
Updated: 2021-01-15
Packaged: 2021-03-12 20:08:52
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,246
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/28766097
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/minwonderlust/pseuds/minwonderlust
Summary: there are many words to describe the sun but the one that suits rintarou the most is warm.
Relationships: Miya Osamu/Suna Rintarou
Comments: 2
Kudos: 15
Collections: SunaOsa





	cover me in apricity

“On a scale of 1 to 10, how attractive do you find me to accept a drink from a stranger?”

Osamu takes a glance at either side of his head just to be sure he’s the one being addressed. When it’s been established that it is, indeed, him, the next thing he tries to take in is the person’s appearance. Osamu is not one to judge a person by how they look but he needs to put a face to the cocky statement he received just now.

They are the kind of problematic people who think those who look good get a free pass at being assholes, and Osamu would like to give them a piece of his…mind.

It takes a while for Osamu to take a good look at their face since the lights are dimmed but one of the strobes cast a gleam over their features and Osamu admits he’s never found anyone that attractive before. 

“Three.”

“Not to sound arrogant,” Osamu doubts the next words that will come out of the stranger’s mouth are anything but so he rolls his eyes, though there’s really no bite to it. “but don’t you think that’s a bit low—“

“Three drinks.”

Osamu, despite his prejudice, decides that maybe he can make an exception for pretty people just this one time.

\--

“So why are you all alone on a Friday night?”

Osamu downs his second drink from the stranger—Osamu debates whether he still qualifies to be deemed as such now that he knows his name—when he asks this.

“I should ask ya the same thing, Suna.”

“Please call me Rin, and I asked first but okay. You see, I wanted to try something new tonight.”

“And out of all the people ya could’ve offered a drink to, ya just happened to approach someone who is from Japan, too?” They’ve started to use their mother tongue upon learning this fact.

He laughs at the idea that the world becomes too small sometimes, they both do, and it’s probably the lightest Osamu has felt the whole night.

“I honestly had no idea but maybe it’s what the universe has written for us.”

“Ya believe there’s an external force deciding for us?”

“It’s called fate, Osamu.”

“So…ya believe in fate?” The word tastes a little like ambivalence on his tongue, and it somehow overpowers that of the tequila. “ _Fate_ ,” he says again slowly; more softly for himself just to get another trace of the feeling it holds.

“I do. Think about how many clubs are across Bangkok, and I ended up in this one. Look at how many people I could’ve walked up to, but I somehow got tangled with you.” Osamu pretends he doesn’t but he notices the small upturn of Suna’s lips. “That’s fate, Osamu.”

“Okay,” He considers it, but doesn’t truly believe just yet. “So what d’ya think the universe has in store for us next?”

“Only the universe knows but maybe I have the slightest idea and I could let you in on the little secret if you want.”

From the side, Osamu hears the sound of glass breaking and from a farther distance, there’s the voice of someone who sounds a lot like they’re screaming profanities. Maybe it’s the serenity in Suna’s, voice in the middle of all that chaos that makes him say  _ yes _ .

Suna slowly moves in to whisper in his ear, and Osamu notices that he’s one for dramatics. “The universe wants me to ask you to make a midnight run with me.”

“Yeah? Did the universe also tell ya where to?”

He nods. “Anywhere, everywhere.”

“And did the universe tell ya what my answer will be?”

Confidently, he says, “Yes.”

“Yer crazy.”

“Good crazy or bad crazy?”

If you asked Osamu what’s the most spontaneous thing he’s done before tonight, then he’d probably tell you about the time he took the last train out of Bangkok without knowing where it goes and what to do once it stops. Ask him again tomorrow then he’d tell you about tonight.

“The kind of crazy that I like.”

\--

Suna Rintarou is an enigma. You look at someone like him then you’re looking at a thousand piece puzzle; made up of many little fragments that are all so different from the rest.

It’s been two hours and Osamu has managed to figure out three essential pieces in this puzzle: 1) he has several tattoos of the sun, 2) he laughs like he  _ is  _ one, and 3) of all the things he could be, what Osamu did not expect is how borderline unpredictable he can get.

Khao San looks alive like it always does, and the hustle and bustle of the area creeps up to Suna quite quickly. They’ve had the same amount of drinks back at the bar and it wasn’t even much but Suna moves through the crowd like fluid and it’s so hard for Osamu to keep up with.

“Fuck, Rin. Can ya slow down for a bit?”

Suna looks back at him from a few steps ahead, and Osamu never thought the sun could shine this bright at night. The music varies from one stall to another and they all get mixed up in his head but one song stands out the most and it’s the one from where Suna managed to find a decent spot to stand on.

“Osamu, dance with me,” Suna holds out his hand towards Osamu as an invitation but it only makes the latter stare.

“We could’ve danced back at the club if this is the sole thing ya wanted to do,” Osamu points out. There are mostly tourists around them and they all seem to be having the time of their lives. Khao San truly is the place to be.

“Of course it isn’t, just one of them at least. The night is young and we’re just getting started, Samu.”

Hearing the new nickname makes his stomach curl in hot shame. He hopes his cheeks don’t mirror the same but he pans his head in the direction of Suna’s outstretched hand to try keeping it out of sight just in case it does.

Suna doesn’t say it that he gets surprised but his body language gives away everything from the way the confidence in his eyes wavers to the way his breath hitches when Osamu places his palms over his and pulls him closer—just close enough to set the mood right for the song and feel his breath ghost over his lips.

_ I see you through the smokey air _

_ Can’t you feel the weight of my stare? _

Everything suddenly moves so slow at this little part of the world compared to the rest of the area, and Osamu likes it like this. He likes the way Suna first mouths the words to the song until his voice is the only sound he’s hearing. He also likes the way Suna’s hands slide down to his waist like it belongs there. And most of all, he likes the way he gets to smile at the sight of Suna smiling at him.

“Can you think of the one thing you regret the most, Samu?”

He thinks back to when he told his twin about quitting volleyball and how Atsumu told him he’s going to regret it one day. 5 years later and he’s never been more sure about the path he decided to take instead of the one his brother thought they both would.

Osamu is the kind of person who does things out of the sheer idea that it’s better to regret the consequences rather than bearing the thought of all the what-could-have-beens, and he is aware that it’s quite reckless sometimes but to answer his question,  _ no. _

“There’s nothing I can think of.”

“Then you must be living your life to the fullest.”

“I guess I am.” Osamu notices the way Suna’s fingers move to the beat of the music against the fabric of his shirt. It’s slow and reassuring. Of what? That he doesn’t have an idea yet. “Do  _ you _ regret anything?”

There’s a pause. A heartbeat (maybe two). “Not saying goodbye.”

Osamu doesn’t understand what it means but he keeps his eyes on Suna’s face, and the small curve that blooms from his lips when his gaze meets Osamu’s again after trailing somewhere close reminds him of sunrise.

It isn’t always warm nights in Bangkok especially at this time of the year but something about the sun being a breath away from Osamu makes his skin prickle with the urge to do stupid things like climb a mountain to be closer to the stars or dance alone under the rain.

Osamu is the kind of person who does things out of the sheer idea that it’s better to regret the consequences rather than bearing the thought of all the what-could-have-beens, and maybe it’s the way Suna has been knocking the air out of his lungs from the moment he started to orbit around the sun that makes him do stupid things.

“Rin, can I kiss ya?” It comes out soft and shy and everything Osamu isn’t used to. But tonight, he decides, he doesn’t want the what-could-have-beens, too.

Suna doesn’t even give him time to regret ever asking because he smiles almost immediately. “I thought you’d never ask.”

He’s not sure how long it takes for him to lean in (or maybe it’s Suna who does) but he counts along with the way Suna’s fingers thrum down the expanse of his arms, and all at once it feels like lightning and dust.

The rest of Bangkok sleeps, and maybe Osamu does, too, when he dreams with eyes open, but only until the waves begin to crash towards the shore—gentle until it is not—and his eyes flutter shut.

The smile Suna gave him a while back reminded him of sunrise, and it’s when they close the gap between them that Osamu finds out waking up to hopeful mornings taste like.

\--

Another puzzle piece Osamu unlocks is the one that says Suna gets cold easily. It’s the way he shivers at the gush of 5 am winds that Osamu learns about this fact.

Their fingers linger against the other’s in bashful rhythms but it only takes one bold stroke from Suna to break down the walls that were there just a blink ago. The next time he feels his touch, it’s lasting and it’s whole. Osamu thinks he benefits from the heat of Suna’s hand which blankets around his own more than Suna does, but he doesn’t complain, just holds Osamu’s hand tighter.

They walk like that across the streets of Phra Sumen. It’s just a few blocks from Khao San but the contrast between them is apparent. Where people thrive at clamor there, people bask in tranquility here.

It’s quiet but the silence between them is comfortable.

“How do ya even survive winter back home?”  _ Home.  _ Right, he’ll eventually have to leave this place and go back to his life where there are no basking in city lights and walking down unfamiliar streets. “I think ya’d be freezing to death at subzero.”

“So you think I’m that delicate?”

“Delicate is a pretty way to say wea—“

“Excuse me.” Osamu’s teasing gets cut off by a woman sitting on the pavement just as they’re passing by the Phra Sumen Fort. “May I ask you a question?”

Suna squeezes Osamu’s hand in apprehension but Osamu doesn’t yield. “Of course.”

“I’ll ask you for a word. Instead of just asking for money, I’ll make you a poem with any word you’ll choose and I’ll include it in the poem. And if you like it, you can pay me however much you want, okay?”

Osamu takes a careful look at Suna to see how he reacts but it wouldn’t make a difference because Osamu’s already decided when he says  _ okay. _

“So…pick a word.”

“A word, okay, uhm, sun…”

“Really?” Suna confirms in disbelief. “That’s easy.”

Beside him, Suna acts detached but Osamu knows better because he says, “And winter.”

\--

They stand right before daybreak at Santichaiprakarn Park, and he knows it’s the last few grains of sand in their shared hourglass. His eyes feel heavy for losing himself across the city instead of in sleep, but it doesn’t compare to the weight in his chest when he says, “I guess this is goodbye, Rin.”

Suna doesn’t look at him, just watches the clouds above them and maybe they could be having the same thoughts as Osamu does, too. He thinks that not everything that breaks is broken because there’s the sky that opens up to give us the first light of day.

Osamu remembers when Suna said he regrets not saying goodbye, but this time he doesn’t say that, too, and that’s because he’s going to regret it if he does. Instead he asks, “Can we do this again tomorrow?”

Osamu looks at him and he thinks back to last night then decides that Suna is wrong. There is no fate. There is only what you want, and Osamu knows he wants to see Suna again.

“Okay.”

  
  
  
  


_ Breathe the smoke _

_ of cheap coffee _

_ onto the window and _

_ stare past the glass. _

_ Outside, where the snow falls; _

_ graceful in drizzles, and _

_ fearless in storms— _

_ the way I used to feel _

_ the chill _

_ of the winter snow _

_ in summer _

_ until you came _

_ and made me feel _

_ the warmth _

_ of the summer sun _

_ in winter. _


End file.
